Albion
Albion is a small, windswept island off the coast of Norsca in the Great Ocean. It is said that it rains every day in Albion, the islands are shrouded in mist and heavy fog and the land is predominantly bogs, marshes and fens. This damp and gloomy environment is inhabited by tribes of woad-wearing humans, led by Truthsayers, guardians of the mysterious Ogham Stones, and inhabited by creatures such as Giants and the strange Fimir. History In a time long before Man first discovered the secret of fire, millennia before the first Elf learned the art of the bow, a race known only as the Old Ones forged the world. Legends tell of how they manipulated the ebb and flow of magic to mould the land to their will and of how they sowed the seeds that would form into the vast forests that cover the world. The races of Elves, Dwarfs and Men were like children to them, whom they nurtured and taught. It is said that even the great Dragons were mere playthings to these godlike beings. In time, the Old Ones chose the island of Albion as one of the locations to build their homes. Little is known of their settlements for few have ever visited Albion, let alone returned from this mysterious place. They forged an island paradise where the sun shone bright and the crops flourished. Gathering together the wisest and bravest individuals of each race, they taught them magic and other skills. They demonstrated the secret of forging runes to the Dwarfs and to the Elves they taught the mastery of spellcasting. The Old Ones believed that the race they called Man was too primitive to learn, but they were quickly surprised at the speed Mankind adapted to its surroundings. They were so impressed that they chose to teach a select few of the cave dwelling tribesmen some of their secrets. Those they taught went by the name of Truthsayers for it was their duty to teach the other tribesmen the true path to enlightenment. They instructed their students to spread across the world and populate the continents, whilst all the time the Old Ones kept a watchful eye over their subjects. They, in turn, were worshipped as gods, and temples were erected in their honour. The race of Man impressed the Old Ones the most for he seemed to be able to adapt to any climate, and small tribes quickly flourished in every corner of the world. Carvings upon the Slann pyramid temples found deep within the jungles of Lustria and the earliest songs of the High Elf bards tell of a Great Catastrophe that befell the noble Old Ones. A magical gateway, their portal to other distant worlds, collapsed, and they were forced to flee the fledgling world that they had created lest they become stranded. Unable to help those races they had brought into the world, the Old Ones had little choice but to leave them to fend for themselves. Their parting gift was to create a race of giant warriors to protect the people of Albion. The collapse of the gateway tore a great hole in the fabric of the heavens allowing the forces of Chaos to pour into the world. As the Chaos mists enveloped the land, hordes of gibbering Daemons and all manner of foul beasts descended from the north in a bloody rampage. Many of the wise Slann, the highest servants of the Old Ones, were the first to fall. A brave race, they tried to fight off the first wave of attackers, but were too few and too weak. They fled into hiding within the dense jungles of Lustria. Next, the Chaos hordes turned their attentions to the High Elves, but the Old Ones had taught their children well. The High Elves constructed a Great Vortex at the center of the heart of Ulthuan to contain and drive back the dark mists. The mages of the Elves created this vortex by building a series of stone circles to absorb and diffuse the Chaos energy. In their arrogance the High Elves thought that they alone were the saviors of the world, but it was not so. By concentrating their attack on Ulthuan and leaving the isle of Albion, the Chaos hordes made a fatal flaw in their plan of conquest. The Truthsayers, or Druids as they were called by the people of Albion, gathered together the Giants and bade them also to construct a series of stone circles. With such immense strength at their disposal, the Truthsayers soon had a great many of these circles whose mystical properties would allow them to channel their spells and bind the forces of Chaos to the north. In many ways their mastery of this form of magic was better than that of the Elves. Not only were they able to contain the Chaos mists, but they were also able to use the stones to weave their own veil of fog around their island, protecting what they called the Ogham Stones from danger. The Elves would certainly have been overrun had the Druids of Albion not stemmed the flow. But the mist that shrouded the isle also blocked out the sun. Something in the nature of the stone circles attracted rain and storms, and over a short period of time the fertile land of Albion became a boggy region where few crops grew. In absorbing much of the Chaos energy, the soil of Albion itself became tainted and once fertile fields quickly changed into quagmires where a man could sink without trace. The thick woods and forests became wild places where hawthorn and poisonous plants choked the life from the trees. Many feared to enter these once beautiful glades, and many of those who did were never seen again. Even the creatures of Albion were not able to escape the mutating effects of Chaos and after only a short period of time the tribesfolk told tales of terrible monsters lurking in the darkest reaches, emerging at night to prey upon the unwary. It was a price the Truthsayers had little choice but to pay. If the dark forces of Chaos were to be contained, then Albion had to remain hidden. The Truthsayers gave the task of guarding these stone circles to the Giants who had constructed them. Said to have been formed from the earth itself, these Giants were highly intelligent beings and knew the importance of their vigilance. For a while stability was created. The High Elves flourished as a race, learning much of the world through their contact with other more primitive races such as the Dwarfs and Men. The Truthsayers of Albion, on the other hand, were isolated. They preferred the safety of their remote isle to the danger of the outside world and became introverted and reclusive. The Giants also suffered from their imposed isolation. Centuries of inbreeding dulled their minds. When the danger of Chaos vanished, they became bored and restless and resorted to mindless displays of strength in order to pass away the time. The tribes of Men on the island also suffered a similar fate. With the disappearance of the Old Ones and a distinct lack of contact with the outside world they degenerated into a race of warring tribesmen and primitive cave dwellers. During all this time the Truthsayers continued to teach a chosen few of each successive generation their secret magic, waiting for the day when their masters would return. Each Truthsayer would be taught in minute detail the ritual ceremonies that were needed to maintain the mists that enveloped the island. They would each learn of the nature of the stones and the offerings that must be made so that the magical power of these circles never waned. Over time, though, the ancient lores were slowly forgotten and, although the Truthsayers still practised their art, it was but a shadow compared to the powers that used to be at their command. Some practices still survived, though, and on the night of each full moon the Truthsayers would gather and perform ceremonies in order that the mystical energies remained bound to the stones. So it came to be that Albion remained a mysterious island. Many tales tell of raiding ships that have vanished into the mists never to be seen again. Occasionally the gossip in a tavern will turn to the tale of a friend of a friend who was shipwrecked on the isle and returned to tell stories of creatures that were half horse, half man or of terrible one-eyed beasts that stalked the mists. Some even claimed to return with riches beyond a man’s wildest dreams. A Tilean explorer and conqueror, Curious Gesar, the so-called First Citizen of Remas, at one time reached the shores of the misty islands and tried to bring the native barbarians his view of Tilean culture. He was unsuccessful, instead taking Hengus the Druid and the two biggest Giants of Albion with him as hostages. Back in Tilea he was assassinated and the Giants roam now the Old World as mercenaries. No truth to these stories has ever been proven, and the rumours of Albion remain little more than fantastic tales told by drunks to any who would listen. But then a new legend spread across the land. Sailors talked of an island which had suddenly appeared to the far north. Huge white cliffs loomed out from the sea but the sailors had also spied beaches where a small boat may possibly make a landing. It would seem that the mists had parted and the land lay open to explore. Every race across the world gathered its armies to seek the treasures of Albion and claim the island as their own. The Dark Master (under construction) The powerful being called, in these times, the Dark Master has been known over the centuries by countless other titles and names, including the Harbinger, the Bearer and the Darkemng. It is written in ancient tomes that the creature’s original name was Be'lakor, but this is known only amongst a few scholars specialising in the forbidden texts, for this entity is thousands upon thousands of years old. A being of eternal despair and doom, the Dark Master was once a mortal being - indeed it is widely believed that he was the first earthly creature to achieve eternal life, being raised to the status of daemonhood by his infernal masters for countless deeds that attracted their attention and favour. Reborn into his new body as a Daemon Prince, the Dark Master was a terrifying and overwhelming creature, and soon came to be worshipped as a deity in his own right. With unimaginable power at his fingertips, Be’lakor strode at the forefront of the armies of Chaos, leading endless legions of daemons in great wars that ravaged the land. No mortal could stand before him, and he slaughtered thousands at a whim. As his powers grew stronger with each passing day, so too did his pride, which was to prove his downfall. Swollen with arrogance and pride, Be’lakor eventually incited the anger of the Greater Gods of Chaos. It is written in the dark volumes that he saw himself as equal to the gods of Chaos rather than giving them their worthy respect, and that it was this act which caused his fall from grace. The Dark Master was cast down from his exalted position and cursed by Tzeentch, the Changer of the Ways. From being the favoured son of Chaos, he became a hate-filled and confused spirit-creature, denied physical form. His sanity was stripped from him and he became a random and unpredictable entity that ruled a dark realm of his own madness. For thousands of years the Dark Master has existed in insanity, time dragging agonisingly slowly, each passing minute feeling to him like a month. The confines of his tortured mind is constantly awash with random thoughts and ideas, filled with frustration, anger and hatred. As part of his curse, a destiny was placed upon this now insubstantial and random Chaos spirit. Over thousands of years, there have been many Chaos invasions of the world, led by all manner of fell daemons and mortal warriors. However, some of these leaders stand out from the others, mighty conquering champions particularly favoured by the Dark Gods. These powerful leaders have each united the followers of the dark gods of Chaos and led the great incursions of Chaos that have ravaged the world. Each one of these invasions could well have overtaken everything, but each has been pushed back at great cost. The mark of the Chaos gods’ favour on the elevated warlord who leads the incursions is the dread Crown of Domination, a powerful symbol to the creatures of Chaos that the Greater Gods have marked out this mortal leading their armies. Before each coming of these powerful incarnations of Chaos, Be’lakor wakes from his tortured insanity. It is his curse to lead these mighty warlords to the eternal resting place of the Crown of Domination, to guide them along the hidden paths where they must face a number of mortal challenges in order to prove themselves in the eyes of the gods. Once the crown has been retrieved, it is the Dark Master who is compelled to complete the ceremony, and place the crown on the warlord’s brow in a dark coronation, the fallen Daemon Prince filled with jealousy and hatred. Once the crown has been placed upon the warlord’s brow, Be'lakor begins to fade back into his mad state of existence, no how much he struggles to resist the pull of insanity. Each time he witnesses the rise of the Uniter of Chaos he is painfully reminded that they take the place that is rightfully his own. Such is his curse, that he must aid them on their path to greatness, filled with the knowledge that it is they and not he who will lead the glorious incursions against the mortal world. And so for a sixth time the Dark Master rose from his madness and regained his wits in order to fulfill this preordained fate. Be’lakor’s memories of what occurred in his past resurfaced, and he once again recalled how he was hurled from his exalted status into darkness. Hatred towards the higher powers of Chaos filled his being, and he was determined not to let history repeat itself once more. Be'lakor set about on a desperate action that would enable him to avoid fulfilling his pre-ordained destiny and regain what he had lost. Before the rising warlord was ready to receive the crown, the Dark Master swept unseen over Albion, recognising that this isle held the key to his chance fob escape, feeling the pulse of magical energy emanating from it. He alone knew the resting place of the Crown of Domination, although it is part of his curse that he cannot touch the Crown until the hand of the chosen warrior retrieved it. However if the power of the Albion Ogham stones focused into his being, Be'lakor realised he could regain his much coveted physical form and breach the defences that kept the Crown of Domination out of his reach. If he could claim the Crown for himself, it would be he who could claim the mantle of the Uniting Warlord of Chaos, and it would be he who would lead the daemonic legions on their rampage into the mortal lands of the south. Be'lakor set about attracting servants, those he could corrupt and lure to his side, for he needed minions to do his bidding and focus the power into himself. The Dark Master turned his attentions to the Truthsayers of Albion, the protectors of the Ogham stones, and set about weeding out those who he could turn against their brethren. Promised great power and gifted with potent magic, these so-called Dark Emissaries began to abuse their ancient knowledge of the Ogham stones, turning their power towards feeding and fuelling the power of the Dark Master. A tremendous battle erupted between the Dark Emissaries and the Truthsayers, both groups seeking help from far shores, securing allies from all the comers of the Warhammer World, and the battles escalated. Thus, the War of Albion was begun. Albion was soon soaked in blood and devastation, and countless stone circles-had been desecrated, their power turned to infernal, abhorrent uses. Be’lakor revelled in the bloodshed and horror. As they gained control of the stone circles, the Dark Emissaries used their corrupted powers to siphon off the wild energy of the land, sucking the vitality from the isle of Albion to feed their Dark Master. As his powers grew, the shadowy Daemon Prince grew increasingly more solid, and he gloried as he slowly began to regain his long lost physical form. Goading his minions ever onwards, and greedy for the feel of material form, Be'lakor knew that his chance to escape his doomed fate had come. He began to exert his own power as it grew, and many on Albion could feel his dark shadow like an oppressive cloud hanging in the sky. To others, this feeling was more intense, and the Truthsayers themselves could feel the power of the Dark Master as a heavy pressure forcing itself into their minds. At the same time, Be’lakor began to probe the defences surrounding the Crown of Domination, feeling them begin to yield before him. Meanwhile, the forces of the Truthsayers had been busy securing new allies, and the forces of darkness were ground to a halt. The Dark Master raged, for he knew that time was short. He could feel that far to the north, the time was nearing when the powerful warlord was ready to receive the Crown of Domination. The Dark Master knew that he must have the powerful artifact within his grasp before then, for even his will could not resist the pull of fate that would require him to fulfill his hated destiny when the time of unholy coronation came. As the forces of darkness faltered, they began to turn upon each other, and former allies killed many of the Dark Emissaries. The Truthsayers, united within the Bastion of the Old Ones, began to perform powerful incantations, their magic converging to counter the assault of the Dark Master. In a fit of rage the Dark Master, now almost completely in solid, corporeal form, realised that his plans had been thwarted. He knew that with the advance of his forces halted, he could not filter enough power into himself in time. As his destiny began to pull at him, he knew that he could not resist. His semi-formed, shadowy figure filled with power, the Dark Master rose to his full majesty and swept from the towering Citadel of Lead as his destiny tugged him unwittingly onwards, leaving his minions to continue their battle against the Truthsayers without him. But with his new-found power, a number of realisations came to Be'lakor. He knew that the great incursions were becoming more frequent, and the time was nearing when the world would be assailed by one almighty incursion that would last until the end of time. It did not matter how long this incursion would take to conquer the lands, centuries perhaps, for time is nothing to the gods of Chaos. Hatred burned through the Dark Master, for he knew that he would not be leading the forces of Chaos in these final, glorious battles. With this hatred came another curious thought. Be'lakor realised that with the power he had gathered into himself during the war on Albion, he was able to resist descending back into madness. He was free of his cursed destiny. Though he had not achieved all that he had dreamed, the Dark Master was far from finished with his treacherous scheming. After the crowning of this new leader of Chaos, this upstart known as Archaon, the Dark Master would retreat to the Realm of Chaos with new dreams filled with power and vengeance. The rage-fuelled plans of the Dark Master are focused on seeking vengeance against the Greater Gods of Chaos. In darkness, the being known as Be’lakor concocts his final revenge, while the world becomes increasingly aware of the bloody times approaching, the lands shall once again feel the hellish grip of Chaos. Shadows Gather A dark shadow was spreading across the world. An evil presence had awoken and sought to enslave each and every race to its malicious will. Dark Emissaries stalked the land, offering their services to any who would join their cause. They whispered rewards of untold power and wealth to those who would fight for the Dark Master. Of this mysterious lord, little was known but these Emissaries allied themselves with the forces of Chaos and Darkness. They roused all those with malice-filled hearts to march unto war. How many of these Dark Emissaries spread the seeds of corruption in the Old World none can say, but the people spoke in hushed whispers of their passing and of the terrible magics they possess. Few dared to challenge these sorcerers, and those who did perished before they had a chance to regret their folly. Hordes of Goblins and Orcs were seen rampaging down from the Worlds Edge Mountains. Not since the time of Morglum Necksnapper had Greenskins gathered in such numbers. Together they marched to war, laying claim to the distant isle of Albion and challenging any who said otherwise. The green horde was not the only threat poised to strike the Old World. Sightings of the dreaded Black Arks became more frequent. Rumours even spread that flights of Black Dragons have been spied soaring high above the clouds, and Malekith, the Witch King, had been seen abroad once more. It was rumoured that he had turned his attention towards Albion in the hope that its hidden treasures would lend him the power to destroy his most hated enemies, the High Elves. Once again the dead rose from their peaceful slumber and gathered together in a fearsome, unholy union of death. Some even talked of terrible man-sized rats crawling out from the sewers in vast numbers. Each witness spoke of different horrors but all who had spied these dreadful hordes said that they marched northwards - it would seem that the isle of Albion was their destination. All eyes turned upon this mysterious place, as the mists parted and its secrets were revealed for those who dared venture past the storm-battered beaches. All was not lost, though, for even as the Dark Emissaries spread disorder across the face of the world, a beacon of light shone forth, calling for those who were good of heart and true to the cause of righteousness to rally together. A mystical race of warrior-wizards known only as the Truthsayers braved the perilous crossing over the Sea of Chaos to seek out noble civilisations. They foretold of great danger should their homeland of Albion fall; the forces that bind the Chaos mists to the northern realms would weaken and in so doing, Daemonic armies would be able to descend upon the world. To those who would help protect the isle they promise to teach secrets lost to civilisation since the disappearance of the Old Ones. Magic weapons and artifacts thought long vanished from the world would be given to those who the Truthsayers deem worthy, but time was of the utmost importance. The Elves of Ulthuan had pledged their allegiance to the cause, and already the Truthsayers were sailing aboard the High Elf fleets. Soon they made landfall on the coast of Albion. Also, the Elector Counts gathered in council and after a surprisingly close vote have also agreed to provide support, though there were those who refused to lend their forces. The knights of Bretonnia formed a crusade and speedily headed north where they would embark on the perilous sea crossing. Word spread that a vast Dwarf throng, lured by the rumor of hidden treasures, had boarded their ironclad steamships and set sail from the hold of Barak Varr. It would seem that the Truthsayers had managed to spread the word of warning far and wide across the world. Even the elusive Lizardmen had been spied marching forth, their divination of the constellations forewarning them of the peril. Though none spied any fleets on which they have could have made the long journey, a number of armies were seen crossing through the lands of the Empire, and others reported that they are already on Albion in numbers. The marshes and fens were ideally suited to them. Only time would tell whether the chill climate would affect their cold-blooded nature. With the possibility of discovering a link to their distant past, perhaps they of all the races had the strongest interest in the isle. The Truthsayers warned the leaders of every army to prepare their soldiers for the harsh climate that would face them as they marched upon Albion. The potent raw Chaos energy which has been absorbed by the earth of Albion creates highly unstable weather conditions. Albion is constantly bombarded by heavy rain and lashing gales which has led to the ground becoming boggy and infertile to all but the hardiest of plants. The rumble of thunder has become an everyday sound and torrential rain whips the face of all who walk the land. Some parts of the island are so wet that they have become deep quagmires where any who wander off the muddy paths soon sink without trace. The dense mists that had parted from the coast arc were still thickly concentrated at the centre of the island, and it was all too easy for individuals to become separated from their comrades and wander blindly into one of the treacherous marshes. These same mists hid a myriad of fearsome beasts, ready to strike at any who passed by before vanishing back to their lairs. Although a relatively flat land, the coast of Albion is rugged, and the great white cliffs that surround the island tower high into the sky. The waters of Albion teem with a vast array of hideous sea beasts, some of which are fully capable of pulling even large galleys to a watery tomb. Landing places are few, and those beaches which do reach down to the turbulent storm lashed waters are difficult to find, let alone land upon. Jagged rocks rise out from the water, but it is the rocks that lie hidden beneath the foaming sea that pose the greatest threat. They will tear through the hull of a boat as easy as a Dwarf axe cleaves through a Goblin’s neck. Many of the Giants that were created to guard the Ogham Stones enjoyed nothing more than to stand at the top of these cliffs and launch great boulders down onto any ship that tries to land. The sight of one of these Giants often was enough to ward away would-be treasure hunters. The Giants were very protective of the land and attack all intruders who set foot in their realm, and only the tribes of primitive cave dwellers had gained the Giants’ trust, and they, too, are a territorial race. What exactly they fought to protect is unknown, but the arrival of other more advanced races on Albion signalled a very real threat to their way of life, which had remained unchanged for millennia. The legacy of the Old Ones still remained strong on Albion. Something deep within the ancient nature of the Ogham stone circles intensified the power of magic and made the isle a powerful vortex for magical energy. There are many of these mysterious circles located across Albion. The Winds of Magic blow with the strength of gales across the island, causing havoc amongst the mages who were exploring the land. Spells that were supposed to simply light a camp fire become deadly fireballs, whilst the most powerful sorcerous blasts might merely spark and fade from the caster’s fingertips. Possession of the Ogham Stones was the key to conquering Albion, but it would not prove easy. Each race knew of their importance and would attempt to wrest the stones from those who were currently in possession of them. For those that succeeded, power beyond any other that had existed on the world would be theirs to control, and the fens and moors of Albion would be the lonely resting places for those that fail. The fate of the world was in the hands of the generals and commanders of the armies who had come to this isle, and only one race would win. Shadows Over Albion After the Great War Against Chaos in 2302 IC, the cursed Daemon Prince Be'lakor managed to escape his fate of madness and imprisonment and started to materialise in the Citadel of Lead in northeastern Albion. He misguided some of the Truthsayers to become his Dark Emissaries, to help him regain corporeal form. The Dark Emissaries roamed the world in search of any evil, warmongering, ambitious, or at least greedy, leader who would come to the island of Albion to divert the energies of the Stone Circles and allow their Dark Master to materialise. Those Truthsayers who were not corrupted also travelled the world, to find help against their fallen brothers. Thanks to their efforts, fleets of all nations and races set sail to Albion, either to help or to stop the Dark Master and to earn the artifacts of the Old Ones. Both Dark Emissaries and Truthsayers summoned the mindless Fen Beasts to do their bidding. * The Orcs and Goblins made landfall at the Muddy Point on southern Albion. * The cursed Vampire Trashlar of the Strigoi bloodline started his campaign of terror. * The Dark Elves beached two of their Black Arks on the northern shores of Albion and created Nagronath, a new, black city. * Men of the Empire successfully conquered some territory and established the new province of Neuland. * At the end the Slann magically changed the weather on the island and the Lizardmen started to grow a new jungle around the Forge of the Old Ones in a deep valley in the centre of Albion and founded a new city, called Konquata. In the aftermath of the campaign, the Dark Emissaries fled from the island and the Truthsayers followed to hunt them down. Both sold their service to other armies in the world as mercenaries, using their ability to raise and control Fen Beasts for the benefit of their employers. Albion was also the site of a fierce battle between Gotrek Gurnisson, Felix Jaeger and Loremaster Teclis on one side, and the oldest Giant in the world on the other. Trivia *''Albion is an ancient name for Britain. Albion's society and civilisation are based on Celtic era Britain and Ireland.'' *''The Truthsayers are sometimes described as druids and appear to be modelled on the romantic portrayals of these priests.'' *''The saying "It always rains in Albion" is an exaggeration of a modern British saying.'' *''"Ogham" is the name of the Druids' written language, used in the Iron Age.'' *''"Curious Gesar, First Citizen of Remas" is likely a tribute to Julius Caesar, the one-time dictator of the Roman Republic. Gesar's exploit in Albion runs parallel to Julius Caesar's invasions of Britain in 55 and 54 BC.'' Gallery Map of Albion 2.jpg Map of Albion.jpg Albion map.jpg Sources * : Warhammer Armies: Lizardmen (6th Edition) ** : pg. 9 * : Warhammer Armies: Hordes of Chaos (6th Edition) ** : pg. 105 * : Shadows over Albion: Dark Shadows Summer Campaign (6th Edition) ** : pg. 6 ** : pg. 7 ** : pg. 10 ** : pg. 11 * : White Dwarf 259 (july 2001) ** : pg. 24 ** : pg. 25 ** : pg. 27 ** : pg. 28 ** : pg. 29 ** : pg. 30 ** : pg. 31 ** : pg. 35 ** : pg. 36 * : White Dwarf 260 (August 2001) ** : pg. 90 ** : pg. 91 ** : pg. 92 ** : pg. 93 ** : pg. 100 ** : pg. 101 ** : pg. 102 ** : pg. 103 ** : pg. 104 ** : pg. 105 ** : pg. 106 ** : pg. 107 ** : pg. 109 ** : pg. 110 ** : pg. 111 ** : pg. 112 ** : pg. 113 ** : pg. 114 ** : pg. 115 ** : pg. 116 ** : pg. 117 ** : pg. 118 ** : pg. 119 ** : pg. 120 ** : pg. 121 ** : pg. 122 ** : pg. 123 ** : pg. 124 * : White Dwarf 261 (September 2001) ** : pg. 18 ** : pg. 19 ** : pg. 21 ** : pg. 22 ** : pg. 23 ** : pg. 24 ** : pg. 25 ** : pg. 26 ** : pg. 27 * : White Dwarf 263 (November 2001). * : White Dwarf 264 (December 2001). * : White Dwarf 268 (April 2002). ** : pg. 78 ** : pg. 79 ** : pg. 80 ** : pg. 81 * : Giantslayer (Novel), by William King. * : Storm Warriors (Novel), by Brian Craig. * : Games Workshop website archive. * : Warhammer RPG 2nd Edition: Companion ** : pg. 10 es:Albión Category:Albion Category:Geography Category:Islands Category:A